


An Ode To Eren Yeager

by luriodt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luriodt/pseuds/luriodt
Summary: I loved “7 Minutes” just as much as you did. I was excited as hell for the new chapter and the story that follows. But unfortunately, it had to be discontinued. Whatever I'm pleased with I mention, I hope the author continues the story. So, here's a memoir of the special moments of being I had with eren.
Relationships: Eren Yeager/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	An Ode To Eren Yeager

If I had to summerize that night at the party, it would be electrifying to say the least. Eren came into my life like a bolt of thunder resembling the sensation caused by an electromagnetic field, his presence magnatized my atoms, yearning for more. It challenged me to be bold. He vanished soon after the game ended. Laying in his wake, all that remained was a ravaged mind, and a body still rippling from the aftershocks of the orgasm.

Inside the closet, I was consumed by primal instincts. His engorging appetite was led by a skillful tongue that vehemently intruded it's way through my interiors. An intruder, but sure was he welcomed. Quite telling that it was no stranger to the labyrinth of a woman, my mind went blank and my strength escaped my knees, when he grasp me inside the closet gorging tightness of desire as lust runs through my veins strong in a perverted taste. 

“I just wanted a taste”, the beast seduction, hungry and seductively parched. His voice still laden with a ferrous taste, a meaty scent, a sweet aftertaste, enough to make an approach to me, kind of trained response designed to turned me on.

I don't know whether it was his taunting green eyes that sent sensual vibration to the very center of my body or the silver hoop piercing his tongue that buzzes electric waves over my bare skin and my voice moans seductive as it gets with the heart rate I can't put at ease. 

And the time in the library when his voice put my heart at ease, like his words create lovely metamorphosis spells and I was drawn towards him by a force akin to gravity. Maybe it was the unfamiliar jabbering or the overpowering smells of mint. The silence itself was floating briskly in the room as if it could sense my overwhelming feelings for him screaming to break their bounds. 

And the time when the silence breaks their bounds in my dormitory room as I moan aloud his name and he whispers “beautiful” with his fingers clutching my hips, leading to my wetness, drenched with desire and our bodies had become roses and champagne dripping with intoxicating flavor, laced with sweetness as we savored each other cause in the firmament of our embrace. 

Something about his voice sighing a swear into my neck makes me grip the bed. His allure, intoxicating, as irresistible as his scent, I breathe him in. I crave it like a sin waiting to be unfolded inbetween my thighs. A mishap of a game “7 minutes in heaven” fudged together in a blur by the onerous fate autonomy as our lungs catch up to our finish line.

The morning dawns and night falls. I'm laying in my bed, treading in the selfishness of my subconscious state of barely traceable memories, spurred on by the gravity of time spent. The notebook in my desk still has his syllables written on it that he marked with his ink. The temple on my body still has his syllables written on it that he marked with his lips. 

My bed sheets still carry his fragrance. I don't remember a single stretch of my skin where his touch has not been carved. I can feel him. I can hear his voice calling my name, the name that sound too intimate upon his lips, but the empty room betrays his presence. I wonder when I started needing. 

I need him.  
I want him. 

I haven't heard or seen from him since we last entangled ourselves in each other's web of desire. Or love? 

I think I'm in love.  
I miss him.  
I miss eren.

**Author's Note:**

> (you can find me on twitter: @luriodt)


End file.
